Angel with a Shotgun
by Furrina
Summary: It's a companion piece to my Nothing Else Matters, but it can read as a collection of one shots centered mostly around Lucifer Novak. Balthazar finally makes an appearance because the world is incomplete without Balthazar and his obsession with Celine Dion. "Nicky and Bart. Part A: This is beginning of a beautiful friendship"
1. Jimmy Comes Out

**A/N:**This flashback/ slash memory is the deleted scene that comes after Dean serenades Cas with the girly song. It's a companion piece to my Nothing Else Matters, but it can read as a one shot.

Balthazar finally makes an appearance because the world is incomplete without Balthazar and his obsession with Celine Dion.

* * *

**Cas' Coming Out (Nick, Cas, Bart, Meg)**

"Hey Jimmy."

Jim stopped in the doorway and looked at his brother, his boyfriend and Meg sitting around the living room table, beer bottles, cigarettes and thin lines of white powder on it.

"What?" he asked irritatedly, his eyes flicking over to the white lines. He knew his brother did drugs, didn't mean he had to like it.

Lucifer met Meg's gaze and she wordlessly, carefully, collected it on a piece of paper and put it out of his sight. Lucifer sighed and asked, "You a'right? You seem to be awful quiet last few days."

Jim chewed on his lower lip as his eyes shifted to his boyfriend beside his brother – completely relaxed, legs spread wide, head leaning back against the backrest. Today he was wearing a tight white tee and a faded blue jeans with holes in them, and looked really really sexy.

"No," he replied quickly. "I mean… Yes! I'm alright. I'll go now," he turned around and quickly tried to scurry away.

"Wait," the gently ordered word stopped him in his tracks. He turned around to face his brother and saw his brother looking at him.

Jim was always scared of _the_ _look._ His eyes flicked over to Bart who still hadn't changed his stance, just raised his head to stare at him with half-lidded eye. "What?" he asked quietly, scuffling his feet.

Lucifer was confused. _His brother had been very secretive for the past few days and now he was sneaking glances at Balthazar?_ He turned to his best friend. "You said something to him," he stated, making it a statement and a question.

And suddenly Balthazar was sitting upright, completely alert. His eyes flicked over to Lucifer's kid brother, who was looking at him strangely. "No," he replied. "I didn't say anything to him."

Lucifer was not buying. No matter what they thought, he wasn't stupid and he hadn't exactly missed the silent conversation these two were having. Something was wrong and Jimmy was nervous and scared. "You wanna answer again," he hissed, jumping on Balthazar, straddling his waist, ready to throw a punch at his face, when…

"Stop hurting my boyfriend," rang through the room.

He froze mid-punch. Beneath him, Balthazar stopped breathing. Meg choked on her beer. _Boyfriend_? He looked at his best friend who had paled enough to match the colour of his shirt.

Balthazar looked at Jimmy. He was standing ramrod straight, fists balled, a defiant look in his eyes. He knew the kid had a crush on him, it was hard not to, but "boyfriend?" _Was he _trying_ to get him killed? _"Luci," he said weakly. "I don't swing that way."

The words cut through Jimmy like a knife. He knew Bart was scared of Nicky but to deny him like this… His eyes teared up and lip started quivering. "But I thought… after we kissed…"

"You did what?" Lucifer thundered, and knife appeared out of nowhere, aimed directly at the motherfucking cradle robber's throat. Meg yelped and backed into a corner.

Jim stared at the scene in horror. _Bart may not be his boyfriend, but he still was his friend._ _And he did not want Nicky killing his friends._ "He didn't kiss me," he said, keeping his voice steady. _Never show you're afraid._ "I kissed him."

The knife disappeared just as quickly it had appeared. Lucifer stood up and waited until Balthazar had composed himself before taking his earlier position beside him. Meg moved forward, till she was sitting at her boyfriend's feet. His hand unconsciously found her hair. "Explain," he said.

Jim took a deep breath. _This was _so_ not how he had imagined it to be._ "Last time he came over, we were laughing and horsing around and he looked so sexy… and I… I kissed him and he didn't pull back. So I thought…"

Balthazar was the first to break the silence, when he started laughing. "Jesus, Jimmy. I was drunk… and horny. Hell, I don't think I'd have pulled away from Luci either."

Lucifer gaped at his best friend, then at his brother, shocked as if someone had thrown ice water over him. _Was his… Did Jimmy… Did Jimmy just admit that he was a fag?_

Meg cleared her throat. "Jimmy," she said, saying out what they all were thinking. "Are you saying you are a fa—" the hand in her fisted, cutting her off.

Jim felt the words sting. He thought they loved him… that they would accept him no matter what. Clearly, he was wrong. "It's gay," he stated resolutely. "And yes. I am a fag." With that he turned around and ran to his room, slamming the door behind him. He fell into the bed, sobbing into the pillow.

A knock sounded at the door. "I just wanna talk, Jimmy," Lucifer called.

"Go away," he ordered, burying his face back into the pillow. He didn't hear the reply but the singing started…

"_They say before you start a war, you better know what you're fighting for…  
Well baby, you're all that I adore… If love is what you need, a soldier I will be…"_

"Hey Luci," Balthazar interrupted. "Stop hounding the kid. Alone." Suddenly, three horribly mismatched, out of sync voices were singing outside his bedroom door.

_"I'm an angel with a shotgun... Fighting till the war's won... I don't care if Heaven won't take me back..._  
_I'm gonna throw away my faith babe... Just to keep you safe... Don't you know you're everything I have..."_

Jimmy waited until they started mimicking the musical instruments with Nicky going, "Whoa… whoa whoa whoa…" before he crossing the room and opening the door. He smacked a hand to his brother's mouth. "Please, stop."

Lucifer smiled behind his hand and the trio marched in. Lucifer took his position on the bed, leaning against the headboard. Jim snuggled in one side, Meg on other. Balthazar sprawled across the bed at his feet. He smiled, fingers silently brushing through his baby brother's hair. _This was his family,_ he thought. _The one he'd do anything to protect._

"Jimmy," he said, his voice gentle but firm. "We don't care if you're gay or whatever. You're my brother and I'll always love you. But the next time you kiss someone, make sure he likes you too."

"I thought Bart liked me," Jimmy replied confidently.

Balthazar laughed and propped himself up on his elbow. "Not like me, kiddo. I like you like a kid brother."

"Oh," Jimmy murmured, He had _so_ misread the signs.

"And make sure he's nothing like us," Meg added. "He should be rich. And have butt loads of money. The kind of man that can take you places like Paris and shit," she continued poking her boyfriend's stomach. He batted her hand away.

"Yeah. One of them fancy lawyer types," Balthazar suggested. "With fancy cars, and fancy clothes, and a very big ass house… snooty attitude…" and got kicked for his troubles. He laughed and smacked at the leg.

"Yeah… He should be from the other side of the tracks," Lucifer joined in. "Nothing but the best for the best nursing cooker in whole world." Jimmy turned red, and they started laughing. Then he sobered a little and added quietly, "Just… make sure he loves you. Nothing else matters."

-x-x-x-

Cas looked at his boyfriend, sleeping peacefully behind him, a faint smile on his face. He smiled and pulled the hand on his chest to his lips, then pressed it against his heart. "He loves me, Nicky," he whispered into the early morning. "He really does," he said, settling back comfortably against the warm chest.

* * *

**Character Profile:**** (I had written it, it would be waste if I didn't share it)**

**Bart Rochester:**

- Lucifer Novak's best friend and right hand man. Took up the name Balthazar, because he thought the concept of fallen angels sounded "cool and awesome."

- Moved to Canada, Quebec to be precise, after deaths Lucifer and Meg. Wanted in connection with murder of one Gordon Walker.

- Met, fell in love with and married a lounge singer by the name of Celine. They have two children – Megan and Luce.  
(And yes, she sang "_My Heart Will Go On_" at their wedding)


	2. Her Fairy Tale

**Lucifer and Meg – Meet-Cute (Lucifer, Balthazar, Meg and Jimmy)**

"Unhand the lovely maiden, thou ignoble lout."

Tommy Brady turned around and glared at the intruder. A boy, younger and _smaller_ than him, stood smiling, completely relaxed, leaning against the brick wall of the alley. He was wearing a white low neck tee, black pants and a black suit over it, a thin silver chain around his neck. "What?" he asked irritatedly. "Speak English."

The intruder sighed, bored. "Get the fuck away from the girl, you motherfucking sonofabitch," he replied casually. "That English enough for you? Or do you want me to explain again?"

"Who the fuck are you?" Tommy snarled, pulling out his pocket knife. _If some piss fancy bastard thought he was just gonna waltz in here and stop him from taking what was rightfully his, he had another thing coming._

The man walked closer, obviously unconcerned about the knife. He stopped just short of Tommy's arm length, shifted his weight on one hip and extended his hand. "Balthazar Roche—"

Tommy took off running before he could even complete the sentence. _The man had a gun and Tommy Brady didn't fuck with no guns._

Balthazar sighed and turned to the girl lying on the ground. "You a'right, miss?" he asked.

Meg looked at the receding figure with fearful eyes and hoped Tommy wouldn't come back with cavalry. She gulped nervously and nodded, "Yes."

Balthazar heaved another tired sigh and pulled the girl to her feet. _She wasn't alright._ Her face was swollen, her right eye was just starting to turn purple and her lip was cut. Even her top was torn, and he could see the bloody scratches under it. "C'mon," he said turning around and walking towards his car.

She sighed and adjusted her clothes, putting on her best business smile. "Yeah," she said walking towards the car and sliding in the passenger seat. "Here I am baby," she said seductively as she could, her swollen mouth muffling the words, and trailed a finger over his arm. _What a vision I must be looking,_ she thought, _face swollen, black eye, puffed lip. A real beauty._ "Do you want me to take you to heaven and back?" she continued as her hand moved to his crotch.

Balthazar sighed and pushed her hand away. He removed a wad of money from his pocket and shoved it towards her. "For the night," he stated carelessly. "Now shut up and let me drive." He started the engine, muttering something about chivalry being dead, and shifted into gear.

Meg stared at the cash in her hand. The man had said for the night, but it was almost three times the regular rate. And he didn't seem so naïve as to not know _that_. She shifted nervously in her seat and shut her mouth. She hoped he wasn't one of those guys that beat women up before fucking them – he certainly looked the type – because she was hurting all over. _But then_, she decided _what the hell._ She was already hurting, for this much cash she wouldn't mind getting beaten up a little more. It wouldn't be the worst that had happened to her. Besides it would get Tommy off her back for a few days.

"A penny for your thoughts," Balthazar asked, turning towards the girl.

Meg shook out of her stupor and looked at the man beside her. Even in the darkened cab, she could see that he was about the same age as her. He looked like he came from a well-bred family, his clothes, his demeanour, everything about him screamed rich and well-bred. She wondered if he was from the other side of the tracks. "Uh… no," she replied quickly. "I mean... nothing. Where are we going?" she asked, seeing that they had left the city behind.

"Home," the guy replied, as if that was the most obvious answer in the world. "What's your name?"

"Meg," she said. The man smiled. "Balthazar," he replied. "I'm Balthazar."

From the way he said it, Meg couldn't help but notice that he sounded pleased. Almost as if he was proud of his name. She shrugged to herself. She had met quite a few men who were proud of their big names and high-class upbringing. Of course, they were the ones who were most savage when it came to being alone with a helpless person, especially the one they were paying to fuck. But then most people didn't give their real names to hookers, and who names their kid _Balthazar_. Either way, she didn't care. It was just one night.

Balthazar stopped the car in front of a house. It was dark except for the light in the two upper rooms. Balthazar took one look at the place and…

"Oh shit…shit…shit… shit!" he muttered looking at his watch. "What day is it?" he asked, his voice distressed.

"Friday," she replied. Normally she wouldn't know, but Tommy usually came to collect on Fridays.

"Fuck!" the guy muttered, whipping out his cell phone. Apparently the number was on speed dial because he just pressed one button. Meg could hear a phone ringing inside the house. "It's me," Balthazar whispered when the ringing finally stopped. "I got company."

Meg watched as a shirtless guy leaned out a window and waved at them. Balthazar waved back and got out of the car. Minutes later, the lights flooded the house and the main door opened as a blonde man – they looked similar enough to be brothers – stepped out the door, walked directly to Balthazar, met his gaze and walked away. Balthazar followed the man away from the house and they started fighting.

At least it seemed like fighting because, although they were whispering, there was a lot of hand waving and gesturing. She couldn't, for the life of her, understand _why_ they were whispering. Apart from her no one was around to hear them, and most people didn't really care what hookers heard or didn't hear. She stepped out of the car and lit a cigarette. _Well, what was it to her._ _Let them fight._ She didn't care what they did as long as she got paid.

Then she saw a shock of dark hair in the second upper window. Few seconds later, a young boy, barely a teen, was standing in the doorway. The boy took one look at her, and the fighting duo, and walked outside. He glanced at her in the passing, a quick scrutinizing look, then proceeded towards the men. He stopped a little short of them, and listened silently until Balthazar gestured to him, and blondie turned around and shrugged sheepishly. The boy nodded and walked towards her.

"C'mon," he said, passing her. She burnt her cigarette on the side of the car, and followed the boy inside.

The first thing Meg noticed, were the drawings. All the walls seemed to be covered with them - there were water colours, ink and pencil sketches of everyday objects, and even a cityscape that looked like someone had scratched it into the sheet with a needle. But the one that stood out the most was a large pencil sketch of blondie and the kid cuddling under a tree. The kid looked asleep and blondie had a look of absolute bliss on his face.

"Make yourself at home," the boy ordered, gesturing to a depleted sofa in the living room, and disappeared upstairs.

Meg removed her clothes and sat down. _Some people liked to undress her, others preferred to just get on with it._ She hoped those two assholes weren't going to make the kid watch.

Just then blondie walked in, Balthazar immediately behind him. The man took one look at her and stopped in his tracks. "What the FUCK!?" he whispered as loudly he could, glancing furtively at the stairs, and hurriedly moved towards her, as if to block her from the view. Balthazar, in some silent communication, had already went to stand at the base of the stairs.

"The kid told me to make myself at home," she replied, confused. That _was_ the usual polite expression for "take your clothes off and get ready to fuck".

Blondie smiled – he had a really lovely smile, she observed – and shook his head. "Wear your clothes," he said turning his back to her. "Leave the top off, wear the bra."

"No bra," she replied, slipping on her panties and skirt, suddenly feeling very foolish. The man wordlessly removed his dirty wifebeater – it was old, hole-y, and smelt of sweat and grease – and handed it to her. She pulled it down her body, just as the kid walked in carrying a large plastic box and the men left them alone.

The box had "First Aid Kit" written on it in red block letters, below a large plus sign. The kid gestured her to sit on the sofa, sitting himself on the table in front of her. He opened the box and pulled out a wad of cotton and bottle of iodine. Meg could see it held small bottles of over-the-counter pills, a bottle of cough syrup, a few disposable syringes, bunch of cheap bandages, sticking plaster, antiseptic ointments... almost everything she had seen at the clinic.

She flinched as the antiseptic stung her cut lip.

"Calm down," the kid said, gently prodding the cut. "I'm not gonna hurt you."

She almost laughed. The kid was _assuring_ her. "What's your name?" she asked.

"Jimmy," he replied, raising his eyes to hers and smiling.

Meg was taken aback. He had the bluest blue eyes she had ever seen. _So pure and honest… and _innocent_._ _Too bad it wouldn't last long._ For a second, she wondered if she could take the kid and run. _They could start a new life somewhere and she would do anything to protect his innocence._ She had been sold into the trade when she was 10 and she still wondered if she could have turned out different. Then she laughed at the ridiculousness of her thoughts, and settled for introducing herself. "I'm Meg," she said kindly.

The boy nodded and finished cleaning her up, before dabbing antiseptic ointment to her scratches. She flinched as he touched her eye. "Don't worry," he said, placing a gentle hand on her shoulder. "It's not a permanent damage. The capillaries in the skin burst when you apply excess pressure to them. It takes a day or two to recover. You'll be back to normal in… How long are you staying?" he asked suddenly, his brow creasing in a very grown-up gesture.

Meg started. _Apparently, the kid had no idea how the streets worked._ "The night," she replied. "That Balthazar guy paid me for the night." She refrained from adding "three times the amount".

The boy nodded, putting away his stuff and handing her a couple of pills. "Pain killers," he said, when she looked skeptically at him. "Don't worry. I know what I'm doing." Meg gulped the pills down, wondering if he'd done this before. "When was last time you ate?" he asked, tilting his head back and subjecting her to the same scrutinizing look as before.

"Two days before I was sold," she wanted to snap, but the kid sounded sincere. "Yesterday," she replied, even though she couldn't really remember. _Tommy had taken most of her earnings and the remaining had gone towards her meds._

The kid smirked, as if he knew she was lying, and went inside, leaving her alone.

She wondered if these people were genuinely trusting or just plain stupid. _Did they always take in random strangers?_ _What if she was a thief... Or a murderer who would kill them in their sleep?_ Somehow, she didn't think it was possible to one-up Balthazar or the sexy blonde… _since_ _when did he become the sexy blondie?_

She stood up, wondering how much more weird the night was gonna get.

-x-x-x-

Jimmy placed his first aid box on the side counter and walked into the kitchen. Nicky and Bart were sitting at dining table and Bart had carelessly discarded his wallet, phone, keys and a gun, the one he tucked in his waistband, on the table. He knew there was also was an ankle piece, another one in his shoulder holster and his trusty knife strapped to the inside of his right arm… all of which he wasn't supposed to know about.

He ignored them and moved towards the fridge, taking out eggs and a carton of milk. He placed the ingredients on the counter and pulled out a mixing bowl and shallow pan.

"You done playing nursemaid yet?" Lucifer asked him.

"She looks hungry," he replied, concentrating on cracking the eggs open. He whisked the eggs and carefully added a little milk to smooth the mixture. "Where's the salt?"

Lucifer stood up and quietly handed him salt and pepper, and settled back in his chair.

"She said you paid her for the night," Jimmy quietly observed, still not looking up.

"I'm not planning to fuck her," Balthazar protested. "If that's what you think."

This time Jimmy did look up. "Didn't think so," he replied. "But she needs to stay a couple more days. Her face took quite a beating."

"Jimmy, we talked about this," Lucifer said, his voice gentle but firm.

Jimmy nodded, quietly. When Nicky used that tone, it was better to not fight him. He knew why Nicky didn't like having streetwalkers around for more than a night. _They inevitably had to go back, and more kindness you showed, the worse it hurt when the time came to go._ "Okay. What about the guy who did this to her?" he asked instead.

Balthazar shrugged. "Ran away," he replied nonchalantly. "I don't thin- You want something, miss?" he suddenly asked, looking over Lucifer's shoulder.

Lucifer turned around to see the girl standing in the doorway, looking lost.

"Uh… yeah," Meg replied, her eyes flicking from blondie – he had found himself a tee, even older and dirtier than his earlier one – to the gun on the table. _This Balthazar guy was probably a bigger deal than she thought._ "Can I get something to drink?"

Balthazar, the closest to fridge, stood up and pulled out a beer. "Alcohol and pain meds…" the kid started, before Balthazar replaced it and pulled out a coke. "Here," he said handing it to her. "Hey! _I'm_ hungry too," he turned to the kid emptying the eggs on a plate.

The kid didn't say anything, just turned around to pull out another plate. Meg felt a pang of regret. _Poor kid_, she thought. _These two meatheads treating him like their servant._

The kid set the plate in front of blondie, who immediately vacated the seat and came to stand beside her, gesturing her to take his place. She looked at him, confused, and noticed he had blue eyes to rival the kid's. She silently sat down and took the spoon Balthazar offered. He had helpfully shoved the gun to one side of the table, but made no move to take it away.

"How are the eggs?" blondie asked from behind her.

"Good," she replied, her mouth still full, and saw the kid smile. "These are really good," she said once again for the kid's benefit.

The kid nodded. "You like toast?" he asked.

Before she could say anything, Balthazar met her gaze and mouthed 'yes'. Meg blinked as the sudden realization hit her. _They weren't making the kid do anything. They were _indulging_ him._ "Yes," she said out loud.

The kid smiled, ever so slightly, and pulled out a loaf of bread, before turning back to her. "The guy who beat you up," he asked casually, his gaze meeting blondie's over her shoulder, "You know him?"

Meg sought Balthazar's eyes, but he too was looking at blondie. She turned around to look him. He was casually leaning against the doorframe, but he had eyes only for the kid. She hoped the kid wasn't going to get into trouble. Then blondie let out a defeated sigh.

"Your pimp or a freeloader?" he asked, still holding the kid's gaze.

"Uh… pimp," she replied softly and his eyes flicked over to her. "Tommy," she added, when it seemed like they were waiting for her to elaborate. "Tommy Brady."

Suddenly the hell broke loose. Blondie clammed shut, but it was the kid's reaction that startled her the most. "She's not going back," the kid stated matter-of-factly, the bread forgotten. Meg turned around to look at the kid, he looked angry… very angry.

"Jimmy…" blondie started, but stopped himself when the kid's eyes turned darker.

"She's. Not. Going. Back," the kid said defiantly.

"Well, she's not staying," blondie stated calmly, but his calmness seemed forced.

"Fine," the kid spat. "Then I'm not staying either," he said, setting face his face into a blank expression and walking out the kitchen. "C'mon, Meg," he said over his shoulder, stalking upstairs.

Meg looked apologetically at blondie, and was half out of her chair, when Balthazar reached out a hand to pull her back, his eyes meeting blondie's who just stared back, then turned around and followed the kid.

"Don't bother," Balthazar said turning back to his plate and motioning her to do the same. "It happens more frequently than you'd realize. Jimmy doesn't like sending them back. Luci doesn't want them around him. But I've never seen them like this before."

_Luci?_ _She knew this name. Where had she heard it before? _Meg raked through her brain. _Luci… Lucius… Lucien… Lucifer… _Lucifer. _Lucifer Novak! Holy Mother of Fuck! Shit! Shit…shit…shit…shit! _Fuck_! Blondie was _Lucifer Novak_. Holy crap! What was she gonna do? They would surely kill her and hang her guts at the town limits. _She wondered if she could make a run for it, but they knew her face, and no one would help her now that she'd crossed paths with _El Diablo_ himself.

"Hey, you a'right, miss?" Balthazar asked, seeing the way the girl suddenly started hyperventilating.

Meg looked at him strangely. _Is he for real? _she thought._ She was sitting in Lucifer Novak's kitchen... eating his food... wearing his fucking shirt! How _could _she be alright?_ She gulped, suddenly scared. "You… you're not gonna kill me, are you? I promise I'll never tell anyone I met you guys."

Balthazar laughed, genuinely amused, and finished his food. "Did we give any indication we were planning to kill you? If we wanted you dead, you'd already be…" he crossed a finger across his throat in a slitting gesture, making a "nch" sound.

"Then… why…?" she sputtered.

"I usually get people like you here to sleep off drugs or beatings," he replied nonchalantly.

That piqued her interest. "Why?" she asked a little bravely, seeing that they _weren't_ planning to kill her and dump her body somewhere. _Not that anyone would care even if they did._

Balthazar shrugged. "I feel and think much as you do, care about many of the things you care about, although most people do not care about them. You are not alone," he quoted.

"What?" Meg asked confused. _Did he always talk weird?_

"I know what it is like to be out there," he translated. "I walked the streets. Wanted out. Luci helped me get my shit together. I even got a GED last year," he added proudly.

She distinctly noticed the sound coming from upstairs. The kid was crying loudly, and _Lucifer Novak _sounded like he was singing something to him. Then a sudden sickening thought hit her. _The way the kid had reacted to Tommy's name. _"You mean the kid too…"

"Oh no," Balthazar cut in. "That's his younger brother. He goes to school n shit. Doesn't even stay here. He's got a foster family in the city. Comes over on weekends."

"Oh," Meg murmured. Then she remembered something else. She shifted her chair close to him and lowered her voice, lest Lucifer would hear. "If I wanted out, would you help me?" she asked quietly.

Balthazar looked at her. "You want out?" he asked. Most hookers he knew didn't know _what_ they wanted, some had resigned themselves to this fate, still others preferred to spiral down the maze of drugs and booze. There were very few like him who genuinely wanted out.

Meg shrugged. "Ain't doing this coz of the perks, sweetheart," she replied, keeping her voice as casual as she could. She didn't want to get her hopes up, in case it didn't work out. But she was burning inside. _She had finally found a way out, and she didn't want to go back_. "So can you help me or what?"

Balthazar sneaked a glance over her shoulder. _Luci was still upstairs._ "I don't usually do this, because sooner or later, the life beckons them again. It's really hard to maintain your composure in face of all things that we do. There's always drugs and booze and shit… and Luci is very particular about what kind of people he lets around the kid."

"What about you then?" she asked, gazing distastefully at the gun. _Some hypocrite he was._

"I'm clean," he replied proudly. "Have been for years. Luci makes sure of it. He needs someone to keep an eye on the kid when he's not around. The money he pays me goes towards my college fund."

"You wanna go to college?" she asked incredulously. _This could make him the first friend, if he was a friend, she had who was so damn smart._ For a minute she felt proud of herself.

"Yeah," he nodded. "There's the community college in the city that has an arts course. I like drawing… I'm thinking about taking it professionally."

"Those paintings out there," she waved her hands in general direction of living room, "_you_ did them?"

"Yeah," he replied shyly. "Luci says it's my own private gallery."

_This Luci sure is something,_ Meg thought. _Please God… please let him allow me to stay… please… please…_

As if the God had heard her prayers, because sometimes God shows mercy even on the heathens, the object of her thoughts came down the stairs, into the kitchen and plopped down on the seat next to her.

"I'm sorry for that," he murmured, sounding more tired and defeated than Balthazar had ever known him. "He's usually well-behaved," he added, almost apologetically. Balthazar started. _Lucifer _never_ apologized._ _That's what made him _Lucifer Novak_, his ability to not give a fuck about anything or anyone. _"Look," Lucifer continued. "Jimmy's quite taken to you. So stay the weekend. I'll pay you twice… Hell, three times. Take the money and go someplace far away where he won't be able to see you anymore. Please…" he almost sounded broken.

Balthazar placed a hand on his best friend's shoulder and he almost jumped. "Bart…," he whispered, so lost that Balthazar didn't know what to do. _The last time Luci had called him "Bart" he was dying, and Lucifer was still Nicky. Everything had changed after that. _"Nicky," Balthazar said, moving in to hug him.

Balthazar's Luci would've pulled away, or punched him, or made a snappy retort but Bart's Nicky just sagged against him, holding him tight. _Everything may have changed, but some things would never do. _"I don't know what to do anymore, Bart..." he whispered. "It's like we don't even see each other anymore…"

"Hey! It's not true!" Balthazar snapped gently. "Jimmy loves you. He knows how much he means to you… and _I _know how much _you_ mean to _him_. You can't carry the world on your shoulders… and he shouldn't expect you to. I'll go talk to him," he said pulling back and standing up.

"No… don't," Lucifer replied, pulling on his arm. "It's not about that… it's about…" he glanced at the girl still sitting at table, looking intently at the goings-on in front of her. "You got something to say, sweetheart?" he snapped, angrily.

Meg raised her hands defensively. "I don't want any more money," she said standing up. "He's already paid me for 3 nights. And you won't ever see me again," she added, her voice holding a promise. She turned around and walked briskly out of the kitchen.

"Wait. Come here," Balthazar called behind her. "Tell him what you told me."

Meg swallowed nervously. She been stripping for almost 9 years, but she had never felt more naked, more vulnerable until this minute. This time, it wasn't her clothes that were taken from her… it felt as if someone had taken a knife stripped the meat away from her bones. Her very soul lay open… helpless… for this man they called The Devil to torment... to do as he pleased with it.

But she _knew_ that if she walked away, she would never recover from this night… never let go of what she was shown she could've had… never forget the golden hearted man, hidden beneath the dangerous El Diablo, she had come to respect.

She walked back into the room and fell down on her knees before Lucifer. "Please…" she whispered. "Please don't make me go back… please… I can't… Not now… Please don't cast me out…" she begged. "I'll do anything…"

"Anything?" Lucifer asked, his lips curling into beginnings of a smile.

_Anything_, Meg gulped. _For this chance, she would do _anything_._ _She had always traded a lot more for a lot less…_ _And what was the worse he could do that she hadn't already been through. _"Anything," she stated resolutely, making up her mind. It would be just like any other job… only this one would have better perks.

Lucifer leaned forward till they were at eye level. "Anything?" he asked again, raising an eyebrow, his voice teasing, his lips curved into a full blown smile that made him look 10 years younger, not more than a couple of years older than her, his sexy blue eyes sparkling with mirth.

Meg found herself smiling back. _He wasn't making the decision for her. He was asking her… actually asking her… as if her answer mattered to_ _him. As if _she_ mattered. _She leaned forward till their noses touched. "Anything," she replied coyly, as Lucifer's hand curled into her hair and pulled her closer till their lips met. Meg closed her eyes, as Lucifer's tongue entered her mouth and took everything away from her. _No one had ever made her feel this way before. Like she was a person… a very special person…_

Behind them Balthazar grumbled something about Finders Keepers and the Bro-Code, before vanishing upstairs, a smile on his face. _Luci deserved to be happy._

Lucifer released her and grinned happily. "You wanna have dinner with me next week?" he asked.

Meg lowered her eyes shyly. _She'd heard about this… in the stories her mother had told her… in the stories she had told herself when it got too rough… a girl and a prince who rescued her from the life of hell._ _It didn't matter that the girl was an ex-hooker or the prince was a gangster they called The Devil._ _It still was a fairy tale. _Her fairy tale.

"Yes," she breathed, leaning in for another kiss.

Two days later, another sketch – Meg with a bruised, swollen face looking reverently at happily grinning Lucifer – appeared on the wall, at the foot of the stairs.


	3. Luci and Balth Part 1

**A/N**: Don't know what prompted me to write this one. But Lucifer, my muse, wouldn't let me rest (Sam's not the only one he haunts) or finish with NEM until I told his story first. It's far from done, but this is what I'm giving him in exchange for the next NEM chapter (yeah, there is a next one!).

In case it's not clear, or is very confusing - Nicky/Matt is Lucifer (18-19) and Bart/Damon is Balthazar (16-17)  
(**Warning**: Bart is an underage prostitute. Also I don't know how much they usually cost, so I'm randomly throwing numbers out there. If it's too much or too little, feel free to point out.)

I may add the second part of this story soon - the one that tells how Nicky became **_Lucifer Novak aka El Diablo (The Devil) _**(It's not pretty at all... will probably be the bleakest thing I'll have ever written).

**Shoutouts**: I see **_not-Misha Collins_** found a way here. And **_Velia_ _Mineantia _**for being the first regiewer.

* * *

**Nicky and Bart (Lucifer, Balthazar)**

Part A: "This is beginning of a beautiful friendship"

Nick parked by the fire hydrant, got out and sat on his hood. He lit a cigarette and waited. The kid wasn't there, but that didn't worry him. He was probably with the customer, but sooner or later he would turn up. _He always did._

He didn't really know why he was here. He didn't the swing the other way, except when it paid… neither did they know each other that well. But there was something about that kid - maybe it was because he had saved him… or maybe it was because the kid made him think of what Jimmy might've become if he hadn't been around - that pinched out every fibre in his body and brought out every protective instinct he had.

**.**

It had been a few months since he was arrested that he met the kid. It was his sheer luck that the cop who caught him had a thing for twinks. Though he was far from one, the cop had turned a blind eye "just this once, because it's your first time," and left him with a warning… but he knew it wouldn't be so the next time.

So he kept street walking to minimum and concentrated on other venues. The garage he worked for also ran a business on the side – stealing cars and selling parts – and he had taken to it like a fish to water. And it paid quite well too. Then one day, he passed his old corner and saw another boy – a young twink – encroaching upon his territory.

But that day he really needed the money, so he had gone out again. Unfortunately for him, not only was the boy there, a few minutes later, the same cop who had arrested him last time showed up.

"Oh fuck!" Nick muttered to himself, backing into the alley, searching for a cover. "I can't get arrested again. Jimmy needs me."

And the boy, who had been carelessly ignorant of his presence until then, suddenly looked up. "Don't worry," he replied, smiling. "I'll handle him. Run." He straightened his shoulders and plastering on a jubilant smile, walked up to greet the cop. He said something to the cop and slid into the backseat. Nick waited till the car was well down the block, before walking down the other side. He eventually made other arrangements and that was the end of his street walking days.

**.**

And now, here he was, more than a month later, in the same place, waiting for the kid.

He was on his third cigarette when he saw a pick-up stop across from him and the kid hop down. He could see four other guys – 3 in the back and the driver – in the truck. The kid turned around smiling, leaned inside the window and stuck in his hand for the money. He counted it carefully, Nick could it see from his vantage point, nodded and stepped back as the truck zoomed down the street. Then he dropped his shoulders and sagged.

Nick reached the kid before his knees hit the pavement and gently lowered him down. He could feel the kid shivering under his touch. Instinctively, he pulled the kid close. The kid seemed so out of it, he just stayed there, shaking against him. Nick started caressing his back, muttering "It's gonna be alright, baby. I'm here, don't worry. I'm here," _He did this for Jimmy when he got too excited or nervous, especially in the new homes._ Jimmy usually calmed down, but the kid stilled under his hand and pushed him away, crawling away from him to sit against the brick wall, panting hard.

Nick went to sit beside him, trying not to put too much thought in his reaction. _The best and worst thing about growing up in foster care is that you get to see and experience everything… good and bad._ He pulled out a cigarette, lit it and sat puffing in silence, until the kid reached out and took it from his fingers.

He put it to his lips and took a long drag, and promptly started coughing. _Novice_, Nick thought, thumping his back, and taking his smoke back. "These are bad for your lungs," he said, crushing it on the ground beside him.

"Yeah… because my lungs are _so_ important to me," the kid muttered sarcastically.

"Did you really fuck all four of them?" Nick asked, ignoring the comment.

"Just three," the kid replied, carelessly. "The driver was happy with just a blow job."

Nick nodded, silently. "How much did you make?" he asked instead.

"I- What do you want?" the kid turned to face Nick head-on.

Nick shrugged. "I never got to thank you for that day," he replied. The kid looked at him, confused. _Clearly he doesn't remember me,_ Nick thought. He changed the topic. "Just wondering… If I were to say, hire you the night, how much would it cost me?"

The kid smirked, looking up and down at him. "You wouldn't be able to afford it, mister," he finally replied.

"Humour me."

"I make anywhere around 50 to 250 a night," the kid replied, "But for you…" checking him out once again, "I'd take 150. The works."

Nick nodded and pulled out 200 from his pocket. "For the night," he said, handing it to the kid and pushing to his feet. "C'mon," he said offering his hand.

The kid ignored his hand, stood up, counted the money and tucked it away. "What's your name?" he asked as they neared the car.

"Matt," Nick replied, throwing out the first name that came to his mind. "What's yours?"

"Damon," the kid replied. "Funny isn't it?" he commented cheekily, clearly trying to flirt. "How well Matt and Damon go together." Nick smiled, just a dollop, and waited until the kid slid into the passenger seat beside him. "So… how do you wanna do this?" the kid asked. "The car… or a motel?"

"Actually I got a place, just outside the city," Nick replied, putting the car in gear. "That is… if you don't mind." _He really didn't want to spend money where he could save it, but for the kid he would do it in a heartbeat._

The kid shrugged. "I'm yours for the night. So whatever…"

Nick nodded and started driving. It wasn't really his place but he had been squatting there for months and no one bothered him. An old man had driven by once, but he too stopped long enough to just give the place a look, and went away.

He stopped in front of the house, waited until Damon was out, before taking the car round back. He couldn't risk people spotting a suspicious looking car outside an abandoned house. He beckoned the kid and helped him climb in the through the side window, before climbing in himself.

The room didn't have much to show for. Nick had found an old mattress in one of the upper rooms, probably belonging to the previous occupants, and dragged it down. There was heater, but it didn't work, so he had found some decent blankets at the thrift store, along with a couple of clean sheets. Everything else that he owned fitted in his two duffels, currently stacked in the corner.

"Dude, if you got money," the kid commented looking around the place "you should really buy some nice stuff for yourself than spending it on hookers."

Nick smiled. "The only things that really matter to me are right here," he tapped his chest. "Don't need anything else."

"You should be a poet," the kid commented sarcastically.

"I've thought about it," Nick replied, joining in the joke. "What do you want to be?"

The kid shrugged. "We're not here to discuss me," he replied, stripping off his clothes. "I'm here to show you a good time."

"I am having a good time," Nick grinned. "I have a roof over my head and I have you for company. Put on your underwear," He turned around, waiting for the kid to comply. "You hungry? I am… I got Ramen."

He pulled out 2 packets of noodles from his jacket and walked to the corner of the room that was his kitchen, pulled forward the portable gas stove he'd bought at the pawn shop and set water to heat.

"You can wait here," he said gesturing to the room with a flourish. "I'm going to shower. You can use it after me."

He turned around and walked out before the kid had a chance to reply.

**.**

Bart looked dumbly at the retreating figure and nodded to himself. From the state of the place, and the guy, it didn't look like he was someone who would spend $200 on anything. _Especially a hooker... and what is even more weird is that he hasn't even lifted a finger yet._ He sat on the mattress and waited. _Maybe he is one of those guys who prefer them clean,_ he thought.

The water started to boil and he hurried to the stove, ripped the packets the guy had carefully placed beside it and dumped them in. The smell was heavenly… he would know, he hadn't eaten since yesterday. It wasn't that he didn't feel hungry… it was just that he worked better on an empty stomach.

The guy, Matt, returned, wearing his tee and boxers, wiping his hair with what looked like a giant dish-towel. He was carrying his jeans in other hand, and Bart could see faded scars running along his legs. "You made noodles," Matt said stopping before him. "Good. You want to eat first or shower."

Bart looked at him. "Um… shower," he replied. _It was better to shower first._ _He didn't want to heave all over the guy and have to return the money._

"Okay," the guy muttered and offered the used towel. "Sorry, I got only one, if that's not a problem." Bart nodded and went in the direction he was pointed in. "Oh… and there's no hot water. I hope you don't mind cold showers." Bart shrugged. _He could care less._

The shower was rusty and mouldy, but the water felt good on his skin. He didn't take a lot of time, eager to get this ritual over with. He shut off the water and dried himself, warming his muscles up. Cold showers… not necessarily good for opening up, but he had made do with less. He had a tube of lube in his pocket and cursed himself for not having the foresight to bring it with him. He hoped the guy would give him a couple of minutes to stretch, otherwise it would hurt like a mother. _But then again, even that he was used to._

He slipped on his boxers and walked outside, a fake happy smile on his face.

He saw the guy sitting on the mattress, two plates of noodles before him, staring at the opposite wall, a thoughtful expression on his face. He didn't know why, but it felt like he was intruding on something very personal. He coughed to get the guy's attention.

"Oh," Matt said looking at him, as if surprised he was not alone. "Sorry, c'mon," he said patting the space beside him. Bart sat down, took the plate the guy offered, and started eating without a word.

**.**

After Nick finished, Jimmy usually complained that he inhaled his food, he sat quietly until _Damon_ finished savouring each bite as if it was his last, then held out his hand for the empty plate. He wordlessly took them to the bathroom, emerged 5 minutes later only to find the kid standing outside the door.

"What're you doing here?" he asked, confusion clouding his face.

The kid held up a tube of lube. "I forgot to stretch," he answered sheepishly. "Can you give a couple of minutes to get ready?"

Nick felt sick to his stomach. _You're a kid_, he wanted to shout. _You shouldn't be doing this._ _You should be going to school… you should make something of yourself._ But he didn't, because that is not what the kid would want to hear. So instead of preaching, like he had more than once been subjected to by all the "good Samaritans" he'd come in contact with who offered advice but nothing else, he smiled assuringly, shook his head and said, "You don't need that. C'mon. Time for bed."

The boy looked skeptically at him, then followed.

"You can sleep here," Nick said pointing to the mattress. He picked up a blanket, walked to his duffel, pulled out his book and lay down, using the bag as a pillow. He opened the book and started reading.

Bart stared at the guy, lying in the far corner, reading a book, as if this was something they did every day. Eventually Matt stifled a yawn, stuck the book back in his bag, turned to smile at him, "Goodnight, kiddo," before pulling the blanket over his face. He kept looking until he found his own eyelids drooping. He tried to stay awake, waiting for the guy to wake up and do something, until he too passed out from exhaustion.

-x-

When he woke up, Bart realized he was alone. The stuff was there, so Bart knew it wasn't a dream, but Matt nowhere to be seen. Then he spied a piece of paper stuck under his pillow. He picked up the note and the 20 dollars that accompanied it. "M off to work. Stay as long as you want, but don't make a lot of noise and don't let anyone see you leave," Matt had written in small impeccable handwriting. "Can't lose this place. P.S. Get some breakfast… I'm leaving you money."

Bart stared at the note and the money, then replaced it. Then he went to his pants, pulled out the money he had gotten from Matt, kept it with the note – it didn't feel right taking money he hadn't earned – and after making sure no one was around, he quietly climbed out the window and started walking back into the town, dismissing this as a one-off experience.

* * *

After that every Friday night, his most busy night of the week, exactly at 8.30, Matt showed up at his corner, _hired_ him, took him home, fed him and sent him off to bed. Sometimes, he would lovingly tuck him in, kiss his forehead and go back to his corner on the opposite side. He never touched him… or gave any indication that he had any intention other than to mother him for that one night, and every Saturday morning when Bart left, he gave the money back.

Finally, 10 weeks into their odd arrangement, Nick wondered why he didn't take the money.

"Doesn't feel right taking the money I didn't earn," Bart mumbled around his noodles.

"What are you talking about?" he asked. "You more than earn that money."

Bart shook his head. "Look, Matt, I know you mean well. But you don't even touch me and I am not taking your money like some charity case."

For a second he expected the guy to protest, but Matt just nodded. "What do you do with all the money you make?" he asked instead.

Normally, Bart would've told him to go fuck himself, but he felt the guy deserved an answer. "I save it up," he replied. "I'm planning to go back to school someday. That is… if I ever get out of this life."

He saw Matt smile, but it so fleeting that he wondered if he had imagined it. "So… you are saying that if I touch you, you'll take my money?" Matt asked, holding out his hand for the empty plate - _Was he really saying what he thought he was saying?_ Bart wondered - and walked to the bathroom, without waiting for an answer.

Bart gulped, and walked to his pants, taking out his tube of lube. He prepared himself as quickly as he could, tears stinging his eyes. _He had never seen this as a job… this was the only place he felt safe in… and now he was going to lose the only friend he had because of some morbid sense of righteousness._

When Nick came back, he took one look at the naked boy and the tube in his hand, and before he knew what he was doing, he was standing over a terrified boy… backing away from him, blood trickling down the corner of his mouth.

He fell on his knees beside the kid and gripped his shoulders, tight enough to leave purple bruises. "Is this what you think of me, huh?" he shouted, shaking him, hard. "Do you really think I'll stoop so low? What the fuck do you think I am? Huh?! Some kind of a monster…?"

"Matt, please…" Bart whimpered.

"Don't call me that," Matt yelled at him "I'm not some customer of yours and my name is not Matt. It's Nick. Now wear your fucking pants and go to bed," pushing him back and climbing out the window.

Bart stayed there for a long time, crying silently, ashamed at what he had done. He dressed himself quickly and followed the older boy, wanting to get as far away from here as possible. _He couldn't face Matt… _Nick_… after what he'd done. _He was about to turn in the direction of the road, when he stopped short at the sight in front of him.

The normally calm, cheerful boy was sitting on the ground, leaning against the side of his car, hugging the knees pulled up to his chest and his face buried in them. There was no sound, but from the way he was shaking Bart knew he was crying. _Crying like the world had just collapsed in on itself._

He walked to the car and sat down beside him, tentatively reaching out to his touch his arm. Nick jerked up and looked at him with disgust, his eyes bloodshot and tears streaking his cheeks. "Don't touch me," he hissed "I swear I'll break every bone in your body," moving away from him.

"I'm sorry," Bart cried. "Please Nick… I'm sorry… Please forgive me… it won't happen again… I promise… Please don't make me leave… I'll be good… I promise…." he kept muttering until he felt a soft, hesitant touch on his knee. He looked up to see Nick looking at him, a soft smile on his face.

"C'mere," Nick said pulling him close. Bart went into warm comforting embrace, as Nick started slowly rubbing his back in circles_._ They stayed like that for a long time, until Nick pulled away and told him to go back to bed.

"Not without you," Bart muttered shaking his head, and extending his hand. Nick took it, letting the younger boy pull him to his feet.

Bart climbed in first and waited until Nick was inside, before walking over to his bed. He undressed and got under the covers. When Nick started walking to his corner, Bart patted space beside him. He saw a dark shadow pass over Nick's face, and bravely dismissed it, saying, "If you want me to take the money, sleep with me."

Nick gaped at him for a second, then shook his head disbelievingly and smiled. He removed his jeans and slid in beside the kid. "If you value your genitals, stay away from mine," he warned, pulling the kid against his body. The kid chuckled and whispered something. Nick smiled. "Goodnight Damon," he muttered closing his eyes.

"It's Bart," Bart replied, closing his eyes and settling comfortably against the warm chest.

Next morning he took the money.


End file.
